


This Faithful Night

by LeChatRouge673



Series: Canon Verse Stories and Wanderings [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Canon Divergent, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-21 13:11:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14285637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeChatRouge673/pseuds/LeChatRouge673
Summary: The companion piece to Call Me a Dreamer, telling the story of how Cat and Nathaniel found each other after ten years apart, learned to forgive themselves and one another, and take the first steps towards a new future together.





	1. Homecoming

_Mystified by her beauty_  
_Does the hunter pity his prey?_  
_Under starless skies all_  
_Love must die and fade away._

 

-“Paradise Lost” by Symphony X

 

* * *

 

 

After everything that had happened over the past year, Cataline Cousland probably should have been more accustomed to everything going absolutely sideways at ever possible junction. She had perhaps admittedly been a bit overly optimistic in thinking that her assumption of the Arling of Amaranthine would go smoothly. Still, the full on assault of Vigil’s Keep by an army of darkspawn that had apparently gained the ability of rough speech seemed to fall on the extreme end of the expectations spectrum.

Too many wardens dead; too few still alive to defend the keep, to drive back whatever new darkspawn menace had reared its ugly head. Anora had been close behind, although thankfully the queen had not arrived until after the danger had passed, and though she had offered her sympathies and her encouragement, there was little her friend could do by way of actual support. Anora was going to have a hard enough time trying to defend Ferelden’s borders without also trying to divert soldiers to Amaranthine. She did promise to get word to Thea and Loghain, but Maker only knew how soon they would be able to head north.

Cat was ready for a hot bath, a soft bed, and a good night’s rest. The latter had been in increasingly short supply the closer she came to actually leaving Denerim for Vigil’s Keep, but eventually she had been able to put off the journey no longer. One by one, her friends had gone their separate ways: Wynne and Shale towards Tevinter, Leliana to the Temple of Sacred Ashes, Zevran back to Antiva to confront his former masters, and Sten back to Par Vollen to make his report to the Arishok. Morrigan had disappeared, true to her word, as had Alistair. She still held a lingering bitterness towards the latter, but there was nothing to be done for it, and so she endeavored to let it go. Until she saw him fighting in the keep, Cat had thought Oghren to be with Felsi at Lake Calenhad. While she had a dozen questions there, she knew better than to press before the dwarf was ready to talk. Thea and Loghain had remained in Ferelden for the time being, though Cat was uncertain how long that would hold.

“Warden Commander! If I may have a moment?”

Cat suppressed a sigh before turning to the soldier standing outside the doors to the main hall of the keep. She managed a small smile. “Yes?”

The other woman seemed slightly awestruck. “Warden Commander, there is a matter you may wish to see to before you retire for the evening. There is a prisoner in the keep’s dungeon that managed to incapacitate several wardens before we were able to capture him. Caught him skulking about the place attempting to steal a few things. Nothing particularly valuable, but still.”

“He took down multiple wardens?” Cataline asked, her interest winning out over her fatigue.

“Aye,” the solider nodded. “He’s no common thief, whoever he is. Varel thought you might want to deal with him sooner rather than later.”

Cat nodded. “Of course. Thank you, Private.” She turned and made her way towards the door leading to the cells. The guard standing watch nodded to her with a kind smile as she descended the stairs.

“Warden Commander,” he greeted her. “Thought you might want to deal with this quickly. While good men and women were out there dying, this bastard,” he tossed his head in the general direction of the cell, “Was safely locked up.”

Cat looked past the guard, and her heart nearly stopped.

“No,” she whispered, taking a tentative step forward, and then another, forcing herself to approach. She struggled to breathe; to pretend that she did not recognize the man sitting resignedly in front of her. He rose to stand as she neared, and his grey eyes flashed silver in the dim light.

“Well,” Nathaniel eyed her with thinly veiled contempt, and Cat could feel her heart breaking with every word he spoke. “If it isn’t the great hero. My father’s murderer.”

“Nathaniel…” Cat took a deep breath, then turned to the cell guard. “Unlock the door.”

The guard raised his eyebrows in question, but obeyed her command. When he had done so, she dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “Leave us.”

“My lady, I-”

She turned around and shot a glare in his direction, and the guard retreated without further comment. Cat then returned her attention to Nathaniel Howe. The eldest son of her worst enemy. The best friend of her favorite cousin.

The man she had loved nearly her entire life.

They stared at each other for a long while, neither saying anything. Finally, Cat spoke. “He murdered my family, Nathaniel. Mother, Father… even Orianna and little Oren. Had Fergus not been lost in the Wilds, hidden by the Chasind, I’m certain your father would have had him killed as well.” She purposefully omitted the one detail she knew might entice him to speak, and her gamble was not in vain.

“And… and your cousin?” He muttered.

Cat did not answer at first. “She was in Ostwick,” she spoke at last. “Setting the affairs of Adaline and Tiberius in order after their deaths, with Margot. Thea yet lives, although she has been living in Ferelden for the past eight months or so, with…” She shook her head, threatening to dislodge the ginger braid from its crown. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Then you might as well kill me quickly,” Nathaniel somehow managed a small, wry smile, “As I think you will not be as likely to make me suffer as she will if she finds me first.”

“What would you expect from her, after you intended to kill me?” Cataline asked softly. “Do you really hate me so much, Nathaniel?”

His gaze fell away from hers. “I thought I wanted to kill the warden responsible for my father’s death; for the disgrace of my family. When I arrived here, and I realized that it was you… I only wanted to retrieve my family’s things, Cataline. I came back from the Free Marches with nothing, not even the protection of my family name. I only wanted to save what could be saved.” His eyes met hers once more, and his tone softened just slightly. “I could never have hurt you, Cataline. Not even now. And I could never hate you.”

Cataline turned away. She did not want him to see the tears forming in her eyes. The cell guard had returned with Varel in tow, apparently not content to leave her alone with the prisoner. Cat looked up to face them, her features returning to their mask of calm. “I have made my decision.”

“Of course,” Varel nodded, then looked at her expectantly.

“Did you know this was Nathaniel Howe?”

“A Howe?” Varel raised an eyebrow briefly, then shook his head. “It figures. The Howes are intractable enemies, Commander. Best make it quick.”

She looked back once more towards Nathaniel, who was looking back at her with an air of quiet resignation. “Return his things to him. Allow him to leave with the heirlooms he came to retrieve, and then let him go.”

“Let him- Commander, I must protest! This man is a thief and may very well have been a murderer had he not been caught!” Varel sputtered, but Cat held up a single delicate hand, and his protestations ceased.

“He cannot steal what rightfully belongs to him. I have given my order, Seneschal Varel,” she spoke quietly, her tone just the wrong side of pleasant. “I would suggest you do not make me repeat myself.”

“I-” Varel sighed. “Of course, Commander.” He turned to the guard. “You heard the orders. Return the prisoner’s belongings and see to it that he is seen safely to the road.”

As she turned to leave the dungeon, Cat heard one final word uttered barely above a whisper behind her.

“ _Why?_ ”

She paused a moment, but did not turn around.

“You are not your father, Nathaniel.”

  

* * *

 

 

There was a new timbre of sorrow-forged steel to her voice that had not been there ten years ago, on the day he had left Ferelden, sent to unfamiliar lands against his will and despite his vehement protestations. Cataline had traveled from Highever to see him off. He’d half expected his best friend, Theadosia Trevelyan, to have tagged along as well, but she’d stayed behind. When she wrote to him later, she had explained that she had wanted him and Cat to have a final moment together alone so that _maybe_ he would pull his head out of his own ass and tell her how he felt.

He had disappointed her, a fact Thea had not soon let him forget.

Nathaniel briefly wondered what had become of his friend; the tempestuous young woman who had become as much his sister as Delilah had been. It had been no small relief to learn that she had survived the assault on Highever. He was still not certain what had driven his father to such a desperate act; was in fact growing more and more suspicious that the reason was far darker than he wanted to believe, but returning from the Free Marches and learning that both Cataline and Theadosia had survived had lifted a weight from his heart that he had not realized had settled there. Cat had said that Thea was still in Ferelden, with… someone. The pause and the lack of any name told Nathaniel a great deal, namely that Theadosia had apparently taken a lover, and apparently not someone Cat believed he would approve of. Then again, he had always been over protective of her: it was unlikely he would ever think anyone was good enough for Thea.

His musings about Thea were only a brief respite from the thoughts that were nipping at his mind like mabari. Nathaniel had been so, so angry when he left the Marches. He’d had no choice: the stain on his family’s name would spread to that of his host family if he had stayed, and so he had packed up his few belongings and boarded the next available ship back home to Amaranthine. His long journey across the Waking Sea in the cramped and stale hold of the ship gave him even more time to stew in his own rage so that, by the time he once again set foot on Fereldan soil, he had been convinced that he would avenge his father’s death by killing the grey warden responsible.

Finding out the warden who had struck the fatal blow was Cataline Cousland had thrown every one of his plans for vengeance out the window; had, in fact, been the first moment he had started questioning what had really happened. His father had been a victim of politics, hadn’t he? Had the civil war and the Landsmeet gone differently…

Memories of Cataline, with her gentle smile and violet eyes that sparkled in the spring sunrises they had shared when they were younger, doused the fires of rage and revenge that had flared in his soul. He remembered her quiet laughter, and the way the light would catch the coppery shine of her hair as she would chase after Thea in the meadows surrounding Castle Highever. Nathaniel remembered watching the two girls inevitably tumble down, laughing and breathless, and he would just shake his head in feigned exasperation before presenting Cataline with the crown he had woven together of wildflowers. The look in her eyes, and the brush of her hands against his as she accepted the offering was enough to send his heart soaring, even then.

He wondered if she remembered, too. His beautiful, kind, impossibly resilient Wildflower.

The light in her eyes had been diminished, both by the dimness of the dungeon and by the weight of the grief and tragedy she had endured. Nathaniel did not know what had led his father to Highever; to the slaughter of the Couslands, but no matter Rendon’s intentions it still cut Nathaniel to the core to know that Cat had suffered. Even after all the years he had been gone, even after everything that had happened, he still loved her as fiercely as he had the day he had left.

Nathaniel was not certain where he was going, exactly. The guard at Vigil’s Keep had escorted him as far as the gate, then stood staring in stony silence as Nathaniel made his way along the road, walking away from his childhood home. And he had simply kept walking. The roads were dangerous, especially this time of night and with the persistent threat of darkspawn on the Pilgrim’s Path, but he was not certain he much cared any more whether he lived or died. He was literally starting over with nothing, not even a direction or a purpose. While he was in the Marches, some childish part of him had dreamed of coming back to take command of his father’s garrison, and of courting Cataline properly. Some foolish part of him had believed that she felt for him the same things he had long felt for her.

Now… now he was not certain what to believe. For everything she had sacrificed to reach this point, he envied Cat the purpose she had found: the direction her life held. He just wished he had been a part of that purpose.

Nathaniel kicked at a stone in the path, sending it skittering into the brush. The moon was rising, nearly full, and with an air of resignation Nathaniel stepped off of the path until he found a tree suitable for climbing, ascending easily into its branches and finding a spot where he was unlikely to fall when he eventually drifted off to sleep. He and Thea had climbed countless trees when they were children, with her ending up with countless splinters in her tiny feet as a consequence of her steadfast refusal to wear shoes unless absolutely necessary. Many an afternoon was spent with him taking a needle to her feet to remove the offending slivers of bark while Cat looked on with loving exasperation at the two of them, a wildflower tucked behind her ear. Always one he had found for her, with more care and deliberation than he would ever admit to.

The memory brought a smile to his face, and sleep came more easily than he expected. When the sun rose bright and sure the next morning, Nathaniel rose with it. He stretched, retrieved a couple of still slightly unripe apples from a nearby tree for his breakfast, then returned to the path. He looked in one direction, then the other, back towards Vigil’s Keep.

_This is idiotic_ , he thought, but the knowledge did not keep his feet from turning back towards the keep. Towards Cataline.

He must have come farther than he realized the night before. It was past midday by the time the walls of the keep came into view. Nathaniel suddenly realized the glaring flaw in his plan, namely, how in the void was he supposed to approach Cat when the last time he had entered the keep he had ended up in the dungeons. The Maker, however, seemed to be smiling on him. There, pacing outside the walls, her long ginger braid twitching with every frustrated step, was the Warden Commander.

Suddenly, Nathaniel felt as though he had lost the ability to speak. This feeling was not improved when Cataline looked up, and her eyes met his. She looked so tired, and there was a wariness in her gaze that stung his heart. He approached her slowly, making certain that she could see his hands as he came closer.

“Cat…” He took a breath. Best to do this properly; he had no idea where he stood with her at the moment. “Warden Commander. Please, I- I just want to talk.”

Cat nodded slowly, inviting him to walk beside her with a delicate gesture of her hand. Nathaniel took his place at her side, more distance between them than was familiar, but as much as was necessary. He waited until they were some distance from the keep before he finally spoke.

“You let me go.”

“Of course.”

“Why?”

She paused and breathed a long sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose as though she were warding off a headache. “I already told you, Nate. You are not your father. Varel may not be convinced that you did not know about his plots, but I am, and until further notice I am in command here.”

“Is it as simple as that?” He asked quietly, almost afraid to know the answer.

“No,” Cat replied quietly, then laughed. “But then, when have things ever been simple when it came to you, Nathaniel Howe?”

“The Howes are pariahs, now,” he pointed out. “Those of us that are left, at least. The last I heard, Thomas died in the war, and I have no idea what became of Delilah. I have lost, quite literally, everything.” Nathaniel paused, then made the request he had returned for.

“Make _me_ a grey warden.”

Cataline stared at him, eyes wide in disbelief. “What? Are you insane?”

“Probably,” he shrugged. “But what do I have to lose? At least this way my life, and my death, would have some meaning.” _And I would spend whatever remains of my life at your side_.

“Nathaniel, you don’t understand.” Cat rubbed her temple briefly, her voice weary. “People _die_ undergoing the joining. There is no guarantee you will survive, and I do not want your death on my conscience.”

“That is not your choice to make,” Nathaniel persisted.

“Andraste preserve me, you are more stubborn than Thea,” Cat muttered, then turned her gaze to his. “Nathaniel… you do not have to do this.”

“Cataline, I want my life to be of use to _someone_ , and I would just as soon have that someone be you.” Nathaniel was not sure what prompted the admission, but it seemed to have given her pause. After a long moment of silence, she nodded.

“Come with me.”

She led him back towards the keep, past the outer walls and the open stares of those gathered in the courtyard. He tried to ignore the muttered words that were not subtle enough to escape his ears as he followed Cat’s purposeful strides into the main hall, and up to Seneschal Varel where he was conferring with Captain Garavel.

“My lady,” Varel immediately reached for the blade at his waist, a steady glare leveled at Nathaniel. “Has this common thief threatened you-”

Cataline cut him off before he could continue.

“Prepare the ritual, Varel.”

 

* * *

 

 

_He came back_.

Cat struggled to keep her composure; to acknowledge the gravity of the situation they had found themselves in. No easy task, at the moment. Her heart was warring between the hope that had blossomed bright and unbidden at Nathaniel’s return, and the desperate, clawing fear the Joining inspired. She stood beside Varel, her face impassive, as he passed the chalice to Nathaniel. The words washed over her, not truly reaching her ears. When he placed the cup to his lips, Cat could hear nothing but the pounding of her heart in her ears, and it was she, not Varel, who rushed forward when he collapsed unconscious to the ground.

Her hands fumbled desperately at his throat until she felt the persistent, steady beat of his heart beneath her touch. She sat there longer than she should have, cradling his head in her lap. Somewhere in the edges of her awareness she heard Varel sigh softly. “Ah. Well that explains a great deal.” Cat ignored him, instead running her thumb gently over Nathaniel’s cheek, the warmth of his breath against her hand a welcome confirmation that he would live.

“My lady,” Varel gently helped her to her feet, his voice kinder than it had been moments earlier. “I will see him to a room where he can recover his strength. Do you have a preference?”

Cat nodded slowly. “The third floor, the third door on the right.”

“Of course, my lady,” Varel nodded, then gestured to Garavel to assist him. As they more or less carried Nathaniel up the stairs, the mage Anders came and stood by her side.

“And here I thought you were desperate taking me and the dwarf,” he quipped. “At least we didn’t want you dead.”

Despite herself, Cat laughed. “Anders, some of my best friends have wanted me dead.”

He looked at her, his expression unusually thoughtful. “So. What’s the story with you two?”

Cat turned away with a shake of her head. “There _is_ no story, Anders. I knew Nathaniel… a very, very long time ago. We spent a great deal of time together growing up: he and my cousin Thea and I. His father sent him away to the Free Marches when he was twenty, and that is where he has been for the past decade. This is quite honestly the first I have heard from him in three years or so.”

“I see,” Anders eyed her with open skepticism, which Cat simply met with a shrug.

“I plan on heading into the city proper tomorrow,” she informed him, effectively ending the conversation. “We have several leads to follow up on there. Best get some rest tonight.”

Cat ascended the stairs, suddenly keenly aware of how tired she was. The evening was not particularly late yet, but it had been a very long few days. Perhaps an early night would not be such a terrible idea. She paused briefly in front of the door to the room she had assigned to Nathaniel; the same room that he had grown up in. As quietly as she could manage, she cracked the door open and peeked in. He was still sleeping, and his expression looked the most peaceful she had seen it since their reunion. Cat prayed that, with the death of the Archdemon six months past, his post-joining dreams would be less traumatic than hers had been.

She shut the door softly behind her, then walked down the hall two more doors to the room she had claimed for her own. It had been Delilah’s, once. Should her old friend return, it would be again, but for now Cat had sought comfort in a space that was, at least faintly, familiar. With her limbs growing more heavy by the moment, she changed into her nightdress, combed out her braid, and washed her face before crawling into bed.

Cataline rose with the sun the next morning, feeling less well rested than she would have liked. Her dreams had been… frustrating. She slipped out of bed, shivering slightly when her feet met the cold stone of the floor in front of her washbasin. After convincing herself that she did not look completely haggard, she stepped into the hall and back towards Nathaniel’s room. She knocked hesitantly at the door, uncertain if he would be awake at this early hour. When a soft voice bid her enter, she pushed the door open.

“I wanted to see how you were feeling,” she explained. Nathaniel was, of course, already awake and dressed. She should have known; it was his habit of rising early that had informed hers, and Thea had teased her endlessly about it. Cat was also suddenly sharply aware that _she_ was still in her nightgown, her hair left hanging loose down her back and her feet bare.

“I… I am fine, Cataline, thank you,” he nodded, his tone slightly stiff. It was going to take some time to work through whatever currently stood between them. If they ever really could. He seemed intent on keeping his eyes fixed on hers, and so she opened the door a bit wider and leaned against the doorframe, her arms folded beneath her breasts and her hair draped over her shoulder. The affected pose had the desired affect: Nathaniel’s attention wavered slightly, his eyes briefly traveling the length of her body before returning to her own.

Damned if she was going to make this any easier on him than he was making it on her.

“I intend to travel to the city today,” Cat informed him. “There are people there who may have news.” She hesitated a moment. “I have heard rumors that your sister, Delilah? May be there.”

Nathaniel nodded. “I spoke with groundskeeper Samuel earlier this morning.” When she raised an eyebrow in his direction, he shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. He’s known my family since before I was born, and I was glad to see he stayed on ever after… everything. He said she had married a shopkeep in Amaranthine, but was not certain which one.” His eyes dropped to the floor, and in that moment Cat had to resist the urge to step forward and take his hands in her own. “I was hoping… I wanted to ask if perhaps I could accompany you to the city. If we could possibly ask around a bit, see if we could find her?”

“Of course, Nathaniel,” Cat replied softly. “I would like to see her again, as well. We will leave in an hour.”

He nodded, the dark fall of his hair briefly obscuring his face and causing her breath to arrest for a moment. “Nathaniel?”

His grey eyes, cast silver in the soft light of morning, met her own, and Cat forced herself to speak before she could think better of it. “I am glad you came back.”

The faintest trace of a smile lit his features. “As am I, Cataline. I know I was the one who stopped writing, but I want you to know,” he paused, stepping closer until she had to look up to meet his face. “I want you to know, Cat, that I never stopped missing you.”


	2. Always

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains NSFW material.

_Here I stand - a stranger in this land_   
_Does your conscience betray you?_   
_Falling from grace_   
_Feel the sun on my face_   
_Does desire still hold true?_

-“Paradise Lost” by Symphony X

 

* * *

 

 

The city of Amaranthine was almost exactly as he remembered it: still bustling with trade and arguments and simply _life_. He had barely been twenty years old the day he had been put on a ship leaving the port, sent away to a new life he did not want. Cat had been at his side that day as well, and he had tried to tell himself that the tears in her eyes were simply those of a friend who would certainly feel his absence, but perhaps not mourn it as he would inevitably mourn hers.

They had not spoken much as they rode into the city. Instead, the dwarf and the mage seemed intent on carrying the conversation with a series of cheerful and increasingly bawdy insults. Oddly enough, Oghren seemed to find Nathaniel’s presence acceptable, insisting that he respected the ‘stones’ it took to come back and face up to his family’s legacy. When Nathaniel had quietly asked if Oghren had been there when his father had died, however, the other man just shook his head and grumbled something about not digging into the dust for things already laid to rest. After Nathaniel had pressed the issue, Oghren had simply said that he was not the right person to ask. At that point, Nathaniel realized that Cataline had stopped listening to Anders’s chatter and had instead been watching him with an expression he could not quite decipher. He let the matter drop.

As they entered the city gates, he felt a twinge of anxiety. It had been over a decade since he had seen his sister. What if she did not recognize him? Would she resent him as much as he did himself for not being here, for the life she had been forced to live? With each step they took deeper into the marketplace, the greater his doubt grew. He was about to tell Cat that this was a mistake when he saw a woman that could only be his younger sister.

“Delilah?”

She turned to face him properly, and a smile lit up her face unlike any he had ever seen when they were children. “Nathaniel!” She stepped forward and embraced him tightly. “It is so good to see you, brother.” Delilah took a step back, but kept her hands firmly on his shoulders, beaming. “I had feared the worst. It is such a relief to see you alive and well.”

“More or less,” he laughed drily. “I’ve been made a grey warden, Lilah.”

“Have you now?” She raised a brow, then looked around his shoulder. “Do you finally intend to see him do something productive with his life, Warden Commander Cousland?”

 “Something like that,” he heard Cat giggle softly behind him, and his sister stepped past him to wrap the other woman in a warm hug. “Maker but it is good to see you, Delilah. And,” Cat’s voice faltered slightly, “And that you are still speaking to me at all.”

“Oh, Cat,” Delilah took Cat’s hands in both of hers, and her voice fell to something just above a whisper. “It was _never_ your fault.”

Nathaniel was stunned. While he had not expected his sister to hold the same anger he did, he also did not expect her to so completely absolve Cataline of their father’s death. His thoughts were interrupted by Delilah returning to his side and tucking her arm in his, her attention still on Cat. “You and I really need to spend some time catching up, Cat. I have been hearing the most _interesting_ rumors coming from the capital about your cousin and-”

Cat held up her hands with a laugh. “And most of them are probably true, Lilah. The ones that are not she probably started herself simply because it amused her. But we will be in the city most of the day. Why don’t you and Nathaniel take some time, and we will return this evening?” Cat graced him with one final, gentle smile before she turned and walked away with Anders and Oghren in tow.

“Come, brother,” Delilah steered him towards the modest house attached to the shop, leading him inside and depositing him at a highly polished and obviously much used kitchen table. After she’d set the kettle on for tea, she took a place opposite him, still smiling at him as though he’d come back from the dead. Which, in a way, perhaps he had.

Nathaniel glanced around at his surroundings. The house was not large, but it was cozy and tidy, and he could see the little touches that had made the place Delilah’s home. “Delilah,” he said uncertainly, “I realize times must have been hard, but is this really what you want? Our family’s name may not be worth what it once was, but you could do better than this. Come back to the keep with me, and-”

“Oh Nathaniel,” Delilah’s laughter was bright and not unkind, warming the kitchen even more than the sunlight that streamed in through the windows. “I did not marry Albert out of desperation. I _adore_ him. And it was so good to get away from Father’s evil…”

“‘Father’s evil?’” Nathaniel repeated, caught somewhere between fear and incredulity. “Don’t you think that’s a bit extreme? He got caught up in politics-”

“You weren’t here, Nathaniel,” she interrupted, shaking her head forcefully. “You did not have to witness just how bad things got. The cruelty, the torture… all the dark parts of father that had been kept more or less hidden suddenly broke free. He saw an opportunity in the chaos of war, and he took it. If you want to know who was responsible for the downfall of our family? It was him. No question.”

He had never heard his sister speak with such vehemence; such certainty. “I never knew,” he whispered.

“Part of you did,” she corrected, her tone gentle. “But you always worshipped father, ever since you were a little boy. Remember how devastated you were when he and mother decided to send you to the Free Marches?”

“So,” Nathaniel continued slowly, horror descending on him alongside realization, “That means that the attack on Highever… the murder of the Couslands…”

Delilah said nothing, which was all the answer Nathaniel really needed. “Andraste’s blood. How is she still speaking to us? How has she not killed us where we stand for the sake of vengeance? And she thinks that we somehow have the right to blame _her_.”

“Because she loves you, Nathaniel,” Delilah replied, her smile turning a bit sad.

He stared at her, uncertain if he had heard her clearly or not. “Cataline… loves me?”

Delilah burst into a fresh fit of giggles. “Maker preserve me, Nathaniel, for as bright as you are you are awfully dense sometimes. Of _course_ she loves you. Anyone with eyes and a bit of sense could see that. Every time I have seen her over the past ten years, you are practically all she could talk about. And, honestly,” she paused, her expression growing serious, “Even if she was not head over heels in love with you, do you honestly thing Cat would have ever harmed us? Even after Father murdered the rest of her family and nearly murdered her, her heart remains good, and kind.”

“Did he suffer, Delilah?” Nathaniel asked quietly.

His sister sighed, then stood to tend to the whistling kettle. When she had prepared the tea, she sat back down and handed him a cup. “I do not know for certain, Nathaniel. I was already married to Albert by that point, and nowhere near Denerim, thank the Maker. But if I had to guess? I would say no, though he undoubtedly deserved to. Cat would have made it quick, at least. Thea would not have been so merciful, so perhaps be grateful that she was a bit too slow in arriving in Denerim, if it matters to you.”

“He was a murderer and a traitor,” Nathaniel spat angrily. “So no, I don’t believe I much care at all.”

They sat in silence for a moment, sipping tea and lost in their own memories. Finally, Nathaniel asked, “Speaking of Teddy…”

Delilah tried and failed to smother a grin. “Oh no. Cat clearly did not want me spreading that particular bit of gossip, so I’ll not be doing so. You will find out sooner rather than later, I imagine.”

Nathaniel gave a huff of frustration, but did not bother pressing the subject. He was trying to sort out a dozen competing thoughts and questions, and his best friend was just one of them. Cataline _loved_ him, or at least Delilah seemed to believe she did. There was a fresh hope burning in his chest, and he suddenly wanted nothing more than to see Cat again. Still, it had been ten years since he’d last seen his sister, and the afternoon was spent pleasantly enough, talking and catching up. It was difficult to believe that his little sister was pregnant; that she would be giving birth in the spring.

Slowly, the sun began to descend outside, and long shadows crept into the kitchen. Delilah’s husband, Albert, came in from the shop and they were introduced. The other man greeted Nathaniel like an old friend, rather than a prodigal brother, and despite himself Nathaniel took an instant liking to him. Just as his sister stood to light the candles on the windowsill, there was a quiet knock at the door.

“I am sorry to interrupt,” he heard the soft music of Cat’s voice outside. “My business in the city took longer than intended, and we will not be returning to Vigil’s Keep tonight. I have taken rooms at the Crown and Lion, but if Nathaniel would prefer to stay here…”

“I think I have imposed upon my sister and her husband’s hospitality long enough,” Nathaniel stood up and approached the door, trying not to stare too long into the twilight shade of violet that the evening had painted her eyes, or the way the candlelight played over her cheekbones. “If it is all the same to you, Cataline, I would accompany you back to the inn.”

“Of course.” Her smile seemed to brighten a bit at that, or perhaps it was simply that Nathaniel wished that it were so. Either way, he hugged Delilah goodbye, promised to visit again soon, and followed Cat back out into the night. She was alone, so he assumed that Anders and Oghren were already back at the inn, and quite possibly already deep in their cups. There was still a silence between him and Cataline, but it felt less awkward than before; more companionable. As they walked away from Delilah’s house, he offered her his arm, and to his pleased surprise she accepted the gesture. Nathaniel had a million things he wanted to say; a million questions to ask, but he was not certain where to begin. So, he started with the one that may or may not get him into trouble.

“So who exactly is Thea bedding that no one wants to tell me about? And what are the odds I can take him in a fight, because I am getting the sense this is going to become relevant.”

Cataline laughed at his side, squeezing his arm tighter. “Oh Maker… are you certain you want to have that conversation now, Nate?”

He wasn’t, but the sound of her laughter and the warmth of her body so close to his was clouding his judgement. It was difficult to believe that it had been a matter of mere days since he had been convinced she would take his life. “Now seems as good a time as any. You never know: I may say something stupid again and tomorrow you won’t be speaking to me.”

“ _I_ was never not speaking to you,” she retorted, then gave a long exhale. “You were gone a long time, Nathaniel. When you left, Thea was still… well, she was Thea.” Cat shrugged slightly. “Mother and Father were rather resigned to the idea that she was never going to find someone that suited her.”

“And I take it she did?”

“That she did,” Cat remarked drily. “About five years ago Father took her with him to court. She was meant to be learning the way to properly run a teyrnir so she could help me when I took over Highever. Instead, she ended up getting into a very heated, very _loud_ argument with Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir over an obscure grain tax or some such thing that put the entire castle on edge. King Cailan, of course, thought it was grand fun and began taking bets on who was going to come out the victor, Anora was trying to calm them both down, and Father was simply trying to get Thea anywhere else before she started a war between the crown and Highever.”

“So who won the argument?” Nathaniel asked, his curiosity piqued.

“I have no idea,” Cat admitted, “And I would be willing to bet neither of them really knows either. What I do know is that Thea stormed away from that argument knowing two things: the first was that she was right, because of course she was. And the second…” Cat sighed. “The second was that she was head over heels in love with Loghain Mac Tir.”

Nathaniel stopped dead in his tracks. “ _What?_ ”

They had arrived at the inn, and he opened the door for Cat as they stepped inside. Cat made a request at the bar, and the dwarf at the counter nodded before trailing behind her and Nathaniel as they ascended the stairs. He followed her into what he assumed was her room, and took a seat at the table, waiting until the bartender had left and Cat had poured them both a very large drink. She sat across from him, then continued her narrative.

“I know. That was my reaction too,” she gave him a small smile, picking up exactly where they had left off. “But at the time, it did not much matter. Loghain was married, albeit distantly, to Teyrna Celia, and Thea is no home wrecker. She did not breathe a word of her feelings to anyone but me. Even when Celia died a year later, she said nothing, out of respect for the dead and for those she left behind.” Cat took a long sip. “And then, well,” she gave a delicate shrug. “Things began to fall apart. Last year was… very difficult… for my cousin. When she arrived in Denerim, I asked her to come with me to fight the blight. At the time, I- I admit, I did not expect to also end up with Loghain in my company.”

“I am not sure I would have been as merciful,” Nathaniel replied, but Cat just gave him a small smile.

“I am still not certain it _was_ a mercy, Nate. We’ve become friends, he and I, but his life will not be an easy one. Although I like to imagine it will be easier with Thea at his side.”

“So they _ar_ e together.” He shook his head in disbelief. It was difficult to imagine the tempestuous and fiery Thea with a man as quiet and cold as Loghain Mac Tir.

“They are hopelessly in love with each other,” Cat corrected. “Hard as that may be to believe. He is an intelligent man with a sense of humor much like her own. You know as well as I that she was never going to be content to simply be a quiet, well-behaved wife: she wanted to be an equal, a partner, and together that is exactly what she and Loghain are. They are a formidable force, and I pity the man or woman who tries to come between them.”

Nathaniel sat in stunned silence for a long time. “She is happy?”

“Happier than I think I have ever seen her,” Cat nodded. “They love each other, Nate. Desperately and truly, and if anyone can bring out the good man that he once was, that he is beginning to remember, it will be her. I would be much surprised if they are not married soon. Assuming they aren’t already.”

“Then I am happy for her,” Nathaniel managed a small smile. “She deserves nothing less. I’ve missed her, though,” he hesitated, uncertain of the words he wanted to speak next, “I think I have missed you even more.”

Cataline bit her lower lip slightly, and he wondered if she did it on purpose; if she realized what it did to him. “I missed you too, Nathaniel,” she whispered, her hand reaching out to rest upon his own. He turned his palm up so that he could wrap his fingers carefully around her own. Time seemed to slow, and he could hear the beating of his own heart mingling with the lazy crackling of the fire in the hearth. Nathaniel wanted to kiss her, then: to say everything he had wanted to say before he left, everything he _should_ have said.

“I am sorry, Nathaniel.”

He met her eyes, and was startled to see tears there. He reached a careful hand up to brush them away from her cheeks, and she managed a small smile, but he could see the pain reflected in her expression.

“I am sorry too, Cat.”

 

* * *

 

 

He had left, shortly after that, and even though it killed Cat to admit it, he had been right to do so. As badly as she wanted to simply erase the last decade, and particularly everything that had happened the previous year, she knew it was not that simple. They could not just fall back into the way things were, nor was she certain she wanted to. In fact, she wanted so much more; she always had. But they both needed time to heal, and to adjust.

Still, she thought they might be making progress. A little over two months had passed, and they now spent much of their free time together. If she went into the field, he went with her. It was never a question, which made her happier than she would ever admit. He told her stories about his time in the Free Marches and, slowly, she began to tell him about what had happened during the Blight. Those were the difficult conversations; the ones she would have rather not had, but Cat knew they were necessary. He had to understand, and she believed that he did.

They were still remembering how to _be_ around each other, but now with all the added baggage that they had accumulated over the years. Time was helping; while she had not yet found the courage to take his hand in hers again, there had been a thousand other small touches. A hand brushed briefly over the dinner table, or at the small of her back if she stumbled over a stone or bramble in the wilds. There was laughter as well, and new experiences took their place alongside treasured memories.

“Here,” she said as she sat beside him one evening and handed him an awkwardly shaped but carefully wrapped parcel. Spring was coming to Amaranthine, and the doors of the main hall had been left open to the breezes that carried the delicate scents of star kissed meadow flowers and the more earthen, primal notes of bonfires lit in anticipation of the night chill. Nathaniel raised an eyebrow in question, but accepted the offering, unwrapping it carefully and then staring first at the gift, and then at her.

“I found it in the cellars,” she explained softly, watching with carefully tempered joy as his hands ran over the curves of the old bow, the ancestral heartwood oiled and polished to gleaming, until his thumb found the impression of the Howe Family Crest burned into the wood. “I would have given it to you sooner, but I took it to Master Wade to see if he could restore it, and you know the man cannot be rushed to do anything that does not suit him. Do you like it?”

“Cat,” he murmured, his eyes meeting hers. “This… this was my grandfather’s bow. I never told you about him, I don’t think.” Nathaniel’s voice grew quiet, and Cat moved closer to hear him. “He was a grey warden, you know. Or at least, he left to join them. We never heard from him again, after that.”

“Nathaniel,” Cat placed a tentative hand on his arm, and warmth bloomed in her heart when he responded by placing his hand over hers. “Many good men and women die in the joining.”

He nodded. “I know that, now. When he never returned, my father assumed he had just abandoned the family. He derided him as a foolish man devoted to a foolish cause, and we were never allowed to speak of him. Honestly,” he looked down at the bow in his hands, “I rather expected him to destroy this bow. I am glad he did not, and,” he looked at her, “I am so grateful that you have found it.”

“You are carrying on the family legacy,” she smiled. “It’s yours now, just as it should be.”

“Thank you, Cat.”

“Of course, Nathaniel.” She offered him a quiet smile, then stood. “Now, I think it is getting late, and if we are going to go poke at a darkspawn nest tomorrow we should probably get some rest.” Cat stood and turned towards the stairs, but before she could get very far Nathaniel caught her by the arm. Before she could speak, he leaned down and pressed a soft, slow kiss against her cheek. When he stepped away, his eyes remained locked on hers, and Cat found herself wanting him to kiss her far more deeply and in far more places than he just had.

“Nathaniel…”

He placed his hand gently alongside her cheek, and she leaned against his touch, her eyelids fluttering shut. “I know, Wildflower,” he whispered.

Cat’s heart raced. “You have not called me that in years.”

“I was not certain if you still wanted me to.”

“Always,” she replied, breathless.

Nathaniel took a step closer. “Cataline, you know how I felt about you the day I left.”

Cat took a breath before answering. “I know how I _wanted_ you to feel, Nathaniel. But you never said…”

“Neither did you,” he countered, but his free arm had wrapped around her waist and drawn her close against his chest.

“I should have.” Cat’s hand came to rest against Nathaniel’s chest, and she could feel the beat of his heart beneath his shirt; was both frightened and overjoyed to find it beating nearly as fast as her own. “But perhaps we should have this conversation elsewhere?” Although the main hall was mostly empty, with many of its occupants out enjoying the first warm night of spring, they were not alone.

Nathaniel nodded, releasing her waist with what Cat would swear was reluctance. She smiled, and was relieved when he returned the gesture. “Why don’t you go put that away,” she pointed briefly at the bow, “And I will meet you in your rooms so we can…talk.”

With that, Cat turned and walked away before she could change her mind. She returned to her room, brushed out her hair and washed her face, and changed into her nightclothes. She already suspected, or perhaps hoped, that the fewer ties and clasps that had to be undone, the better. With a final glance in the mirror, she stepped silently out of her room and down the hall, pausing only briefly to ensure she was alone before she knocked softly on Nathaniel’s door. He opened it and she slipped inside as he shut the door behind her.

“Nathaniel, I-”

But the rest of the words were drowned as he cupped her face in his hands and his lips met hers. There was no hesitation anymore, from either of them: in its place was want, and a fierce, deep, powerful love that had lain dormant but was never truly extinguished. Cat sank into his arms, pressing her body as close to his as she could and still she was not certain if it was close enough; if it could _ever_ be close enough. Nathaniel’s hands moved from her face down to her waist, holding her, his thumbs running slowly along the curve down to her hips.

“Cataline,” he whispered against her lips as they slowly parted, “My Wildflower… I love you. I have always loved you. I _will always_ love you.”

“I love you, Nathaniel,” Cat arched up to press another soft, lingering kiss to his lips. “I always have and, yes, I always will.”

He took a step back so that he could look at her, and Cat resisted the urge to immediately fall back against him. “Cataline, I can never ask your forgiveness for what happened. And I will never be able to offer you the life you deserve. You could do so much better.”

“You can never ask forgiveness because there is nothing to forgive,” she replied. “Your father’s sins are not your own, love, and I know damn well you would never have hurt me. And you are right: you will never be able to give me the life I deserve because any life that has you in it will be so much more than I could have ever asked for. But if you think I could do better than the man I have loved for nearly half my life, than you are dreadfully mistaken. I love you, Nathaniel Adrian Howe, and I happen to have full confidence in my judgement.”

Nathaniel smiled then, a soft, quiet smile that belied the simmering tension that still lay between them. “Cat… if you are not ready… I will wait until the end of time, so long as you are still there waiting for me.”

Cat stared at him, her eyes meeting his and a smile slowly curving at her lips. “Nathaniel…” She shook her head quietly, then reached her hands up to her shoulders, and pushed the straps of her nightdress down and allowed the garment to whisper to her feet. He stared at her for a moment, wordless, but she could see the rise and fall of his chest quicken.

“Andraste’s blood, Cataline,” he finally breathed, “That is very nearly not fair.”

“Are you saying that _you_ do not want this?” She teased gently, reaching out and taking his hands in hers.

He did not answer. Instead, he stepped forward and scooped her up in his arms, carrying her to his bed and laying her down gently. “You are going to freeze, standing barefoot on the stone floors like that,” he chided with mock sternness as he pulled his own shirt off over his head. Cataline tried, and failed, not stare at the lean lines of muscle that marked his body: the result of years of training and time with a bow. When he had shed the last of his clothing he lay down beside her, tentatively reaching out a hand to run along the length of her side.

“I suppose we will just have to keep each other warm then, won’t we?” She smiled softly, and he laughed.

“That we will. My beautiful Wildflower.” His voice was tender, almost reverent, and Cat shivered pleasantly as the endearment washed over her. She snuggled closer to him, the warmth of his bare skin against hers flaring brightly in her mind and in her heart. Nathaniel pulled the covers up over them, one arm still wrapped around her waist. His lips met hers for a heartbeat, then began marking a path down the curve of her neck, tracing her collarbone, and further down to the swell of her breast. She gave a small hum of pleasure as the warmth of his mouth met the sensitive nerves of her nipple; a gasp when he gently sucked it into his mouth and flicked his tongue over it.

Cat arched her back slightly, and she could feel Nathaniel smile against her skin as his mouth moved to her other breast, the hand that was not holding her at the waist reaching up to tangle his slender fingers in her hair. “I love you, Nate,” she murmured, her head already spinning.

“Say it again?” He asked, the slightest hint of a plea beneath the steady timbre of his voice.

“I love you, Nathaniel,” Cat repeated, her arms twining around his neck as he moved to kiss her. “I love you.”

“I love you, Cataline.” His words were a promise, and a gift, and she let each one soak into her heart even as his lips returned to her skin, kissing a slow, precise line down her sternum, lower along the dip of her waist and the curve of her hips, brushing briefly against her inner thigh before repeating the pattern in reverse on her other side. Her body warmed beneath his touch, the slightly rough brush of calluses on fingertips long accustomed to a bowstring creating a pleasant friction against the sensitive curves of her breasts, brushing too lightly over her nipple and drawing a frustrated whimper from her throat.

“Are you alright, my love?” Nathaniel asked gently, running his thumb along her cheekbone as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Cat gave a small breath of laughter. “I’m fine, Nathaniel. I’m better than fine, I’m… I have been dreaming of this for years. And the way you touch me, it is as if you know my body as well as I do.”

“To be fair, Wildflower,” he gave her a small smile, “I had ten very long years to think on this: to imagine how I would touch you, how you would feel in my arms; beneath my lips. It kept me sane more nights than I can count: the foolish hope that someday I would come home, that you would by some miracle to consent to take me as your husband. Perhaps I would be able to convince you to run away with me, far from Amaranthine and Highever, and we would travel the world.”

“Well,” Cat shifted slightly beneath him, pulling him closer to her. “You have come home. Do you still intend to make me your wife?”

Nathaniel fell silent, his eyes meeting hers. “Cataline… you would marry me?”

“Are you asking?”

He nodded slowly. “Yes, Cat. I think I am. I realize this is probably not exactly how you imagined being asked, but…”

“You’re right,” Cat teased, leaning up to press a kiss against his nose. “This is much better. Or at least, it is about to be.” Her hands drifted down along his waist and settled against his thighs, her thumbs running just shy of where he wanted them to be. There was a sharp intake of breath, and then he lowered his head to claim her lips with his.

“Cataline Alexandria Cousland,” he spoke, his words soft against her cheek, “Will you marry me?”

She let her head fall back against the pillow, smiling up at him.

“ _Yes_.”

Nathaniel smiled back at her, and in that moment, the years between them melted away. He kissed her again, his lips consuming the small gasp she breathed as he entered her, their bodies joining together. Cat clung to him, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, and she had to stop herself from digging her nails into his skin as he thrust against her.

“Wildflower, it’s alright,” he laughed breathlessly. “Mark me all you like. I do not care if the entire keep knows that you have claimed me.”

“Be that as it may,” she giggled, arching her back as he braced her hips against his, “I would prefer not to cause you _too_ much bodily harm. We will have many, _many_ more opportunities to learn each other. I don’t want to wear you out too soon.”

“I look forward to it,” Nathaniel brushed a kiss against her lips, never breaking their rhythm. It was slow, and sweet, and both of them sank into the knowledge that at last, they had each other. They had time. And when the slowly smoldering burn that had been growing in her core finally flared and she cried out in the night, he was there to hold her close as he found his own release, keeping her safe in his arms as he lay down beside her and she nestled against his chest.

“Do you still want to run away together?” Cat asked sleepily. Now that her heart and her head were finally at peace with the world, she dared to believe she may actually sleep through the night.

She felt a soft chuckle vibrate through his chest against her back, and the gentle kiss he pressed to the back of her neck. “I think we still have some darkspawn to kill first, my love. After that, I will follow you wherever you choose to go.”

“I think that, for tomorrow at least, I am going to choose to stay exactly where I am right now.” Cataline rolled over so that she could face him. “I mean it. Let’s just spend the whole day together, like this.”

He smiled as he reached out to brush her hair away from her eyes. “Wildflower, as wonderful as that sounds-”

“The rest of the world can wait one day,” she interrupted stubbornly. “We have ten years to make up for, Nathaniel.” She curled up next to him, resting her head on his shoulder while his other arm wrapped easily around her waist. “I just want to have one day where you and I can simply enjoy each other; enjoy _being_ together.”

“Alright, love,” Nathaniel leaned over to kiss her cheek. “You know I would give you the world if you asked it of me. But I want it noted that I intend to have _many_ such days with you. Starting tomorrow.”

“And forever?”

Nathaniel pulled her closer.

“Always, Wildflower.”


	3. Peace

_Love conquers all for heaven's fall_  
_This faithful night_  
_Yours or mine, damned or divine_  
_Draw the line_

-“Paradise Lost” by Symphony X

 

* * *

 

 

It still felt like a small miracle to wake up with her every morning: to feel the warmth of her in his arms, and allow his mind to be quieted by the steady rise and fall of her breath. Cataline was his life and his love, and more than that, she was his home. Nathaniel loved her with every fiber of his being, and despite everything that should have driven her away, he believed her when she said she felt the same. His heart rose with the sun every morning, and his hand traced the curves of her shoulder down her arm and over her waist, treasuring every curve of her body and every satiny touch of her skin against his.

They had intended to wait to marry until Thea arrived from the south, but impatience had won out over sensibility. On a warm spring morning, they had stolen away to the keep’s chapel, and their words made the same promise their hearts had made years ago. It had been barely a week since they had exchanged rings and vows, yet every morning still seemed bright and new.

Cat had slipped out of bed early that morning, inevitably to see to some of the work she had been letting pile up while they had spent most of the week in their room. Finding he could not fall back asleep without her presence, Nathaniel got out of bed and shuffled into the bathroom to perform his morning ablutions. When he emerged, tying his hair back out of his face, he was alarmed to find an auburn haired woman sitting daintily in the armchair by the desk, neatly tending to her nails with a wicked looking file.

“Good morning, Nathaniel.”

“Thea?” His voice was faint, his mind still trying to process her presence.

“Oh, good, you remember my name. I have to say I wondered, given that you apparently forgot how to write a letter.” Theadosia Trevelyan set aside the file and stood, her hands clasped neatly at her waist as she leveled a steady gaze at him. Nathaniel knew her better than that, however: sparks were flaring behind storm blue eyes. He slowly began to inch towards the door.

“You can imagine my distress when I heard the latest gossip in the capital. My prodigal best friend returned to Ferelden, and trying to finish the job his father started. Tell me: would I have been next, had you succeeded in murdering Cataline? Or perhaps-”

“Thea,” Nathaniel spoke slowly, “I can explain.”

Thea’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Do not interrupt me, kitten. Now,” she took a step closer to him, a subtle yet predatory sway in her hips and something disturbingly akin to murder in her eyes. “Once upon a time ago, you were my best friend. You were my brother. And because I love you, I have given you exactly one minute where I did not raise my voice. However,” her lips curved up in a disconcerting grin, “I am afraid that minute is now up. So would you kindly explain to me _WHAT IN THE VOID YOU WERE THINKING?”_

“Andraste’s blood, Thea…” Nathaniel turned and walked out of the room and started down the stairs, already knowing full well she would follow. Best get her somewhere there were witnesses.

“ _DO NOT WALK AWAY FROM ME, NATHANIEL ADRIAN HOWE_.”

He rolled his eyes, then was immediately grateful she could not see the gesture. “Perhaps if you stop shrieking at me like a blighted despair demon I will stop walking away from you, damn it!”

“And perhaps I would not be quite so shrill if you would stop and look at me! You have some nerve, you know that!”

Nathaniel stepped down into the main hall and breathed a muted sigh of relief when he saw Cataline standing there with… Loghain Mac Tir? His wife looked amused, while Loghain seemed to be debating whether or not he should intervene and, ultimately, coming to the conclusion that he should not. Finally, he came to a stop slightly in front of Cat and Loghain and turned to face Thea head on as she continued her lecture.

“You disappear off the face of Thedas for eight fucking years…”

“Not by choice, Thea! You know that! You _know_ I begged father to let me stay.”

“And yet I have not had word from you in over _three years_! Not so much as a damned messenger bird!” Despite the rage in her tone, Nathaniel could hear the undercurrent of hurt there as well, and a surge of guilt in his heart answered it.

Nathaniel hesitated. “Alright, that… that may be fair,” he admitted.

Thea’s eyes sparked dangerously. “‘ _May be fair_.’ Really? And then I hear that my best friend broke into Vigil’s Keep to try and kill my favorite cousin! How _exactly_ am I supposed to be happy about any of this, Nathaniel? Please, fucking enlighten me!”

“I was _never_ going to hurt Cat, Thea, and you know it!” Nathaniel shot back, anger and shame coloring his voice. “I love her! I always have, and you know that too! Just as you know I love you like my own sister!”

“Hence my _utter_ confusion.”

“I know, and I am sorry. But she has forgiven me, obviously. I was rather hopeful you would be reasonable as well. Besides,” Nathaniel pointed back to where Cat and Loghain were standing, “ _He_ spent the better part of a year trying to have her killed, and it hasn’t stopped you from sleeping with him!”

He regretted the words as soon as he spoke them. Whatever Loghain had done, Cat had long since forgiven him, and if what she had told him was to be believed, Thea loved him fiercely. It was a low blow, and Nathaniel should not have made it.

Thea paused for a moment, and her silence was more terrifying than her shouting. She studied him, hands on her hips and eyes oddly thoughtful. Then, with her chin lifted and the beautifully imperious tone that was uniquely hers, she replied, “Well he wasn’t trying to kill _me_.”

Nathaniel threw up his hands in exasperation, but he couldn’t help the smile that was tugging at his lips. “Really, Teddy Girl? _That’s_ the logic we’re going with.”

Thea broke out into bright, unabashed laughter. “Seems as good as any these days, does it not?” She held out her arms and Nathaniel lifted her into a great bear hug. Part of him was relieved that she did not feel any lighter than when he had left; perhaps Loghain was actually able to convince her to eat on a regular basis.

“Damn it. I missed you, you ass,” she growled against his shoulder before he carefully set her down.

“I missed you too, Teddy,” he pressed a kiss to the top of her head before they finally joined Cat and Loghain. Cat took his hand in hers, delicate fingers twining easily with his, and in that moment he knew everything would be alright.

“See. I told you she would be fine.”

“Says the woman whose hearing is still intact,” Nathaniel rolled his eyes, but he could not help but meet his wife’s gentle smile with one of his own. She brought out the best in all of them; perhaps of him most of all.

“I am going to assume you have a good reason for not telling me you up and got married without inviting me?” Thea demanded, her toes tapping insistently on the stone floor of the keep. Nathaniel was almost surprised to see her wearing shoes and, based on the wink she shot in his direction, he suspected she could guess his thoughts.

At his side, Cat gave a sheepish shrug. “I sent word, but I am guessing it never reached you?” When Thea shook her head, Cat offered her an apologetic smile. “It has only been a week, if that helps matters any.”

“Don’t be silly,” Thea smiled, the expression brighter and more real than Nathaniel thought he had ever seen from her. “I am happy for you. _Both_ of you, even though I may still have to shout a bit more at your husband.” She met his eyes, but all the anger had gone out of her gaze. She looked, impossibly, happy.  “I have to keep up appearances, you know. Can’t have people thinking I’ve gone soft.”

“Somehow I think there is very little danger of that, love,” Loghain finally spoke up, raising an eyebrow at Thea, who just laughed and let him put an arm around her waist as she arched up onto her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Nathaniel almost could not believe it: he had been nigh convinced before he left that Thea would never find anyone, man or woman, who she would find acceptable enough to spend her life with. Yet here she was, in the arms of the last person in the world he would have ever imagined, and she seemed truly and utterly content.

“Alright, well, now that you are no longer in fear for your safety,” Thea gently stepped away from Loghain and tucked her arm into his, steering him towards the front doors of the main hall. “You and I are going to have words, Nate. Most of them will probably be swears.”

“And most of them I will probably even deserve,” he retorted, but he squeezed her arm gently and she graced him with another smile. “So. Loghain Mac Tir…”

“Are we really going to start throwing stones at glass houses, Nate?” Thea tilted her head in question, and he shrugged.

“I am not throwing any stones, Teddy. Cat told me about what happened. All of it.”

She sighed, leaning her head briefly against his shoulder. “Nathaniel… I am so sorry.”

They walked in silence for a while, walking out past the main gates and through the meadow surrounding the keep until the reached the edge of the forest. There, in true Thea fashion, his best friend picked a suitable tree and swung herself up into the branches, leaving him to follow. When they had settled high above the ground, where only the leaves and the whispering spring breezes would hear them, she spoke again.

“So. Where do we even start?”

Nathaniel reached out and took her hand. “I don’t know, Teddy. I suppose… how are you?”

His friend laughed, the sound richer than it had once been, and more honest. “I am well, Nate. Better than I ever have been, I think. Not that things were not _incredibly_ awful up until recently, but,” she shrugged, “I think life has more or less evened out. I have the love of a man who, though he is trying to rebuild, is also trying to be a good person. My favorite cousin is still alive despite his and _your_ best efforts, and you have come home. Things are pretty alright.”

Nathaniel shook his head slightly, but he could not help but smile. “I am still having a bit of difficulty getting over the fact that you and Loghain…”

“You and nearly everyone else in Thedas,” Thea rolled her eyes.

“I did not mean it like that, Thea, and you know it,” Nathaniel squeezed her hand gently, and she relaxed slightly. “Even I can see the two of you are crazy about each other, though I admit it is not something I ever expected to see from either of you.”

She laughed softly. “Me either, so I suppose that is fair.” Thea paused, tucking a strand of auburn hair that had fallen loose from her braid back behind her ear. “I love him, Nathaniel. And before you ask, yes: even after everything.”

“I know,” Nathaniel reassured her. “Besides, I suspect I have to give him some credit for the fact that you seem to actually be healthy and happy.”

Thea stuck her tongue out briefly at him, but she was smiling. “Yes, I suppose you do at that. It has just been exhausting.” Her smile faded, and Nathaniel could see a flicker of pain behind her eyes. “I am so damn tired of people questioning his continued existence, and questioning my love for him. I do not fucking care if they like it, or if they understand, but it does begin to wear on me. I think most people who do not know me any better expected me to end up with some golden haired knight in shining armor.” She wrinkled her nose in disdain, and Nathaniel resisted the urge to laugh at the image. “Void, I suspect some people are _still_ hoping I will ‘come to my senses.’”

“Just be grateful no one has started pestering you about having children,” Nathaniel replied drily, slightly gratified when Thea burst out in laughter.

“Oh, Maker… you and Cat must just _love_ that,” she giggled. “Can grey wardens even bear children?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” he replied, “And we have no intention of finding out. Not for lack of trying, mind you.”

“Damn it, Nate,” Thea poked at him with the toe of her boot, but she was still smiling slightly. “This is supposed to be a serious talk. I still have questions for _you,_ my friend. You going to fill me in on the last three or so years where you stopped writing? What in the void was that about, anyways?”

Nathaniel sighed. “You did not miss much, Thea. Training, chores, education, more training… wake up the next morning and start it all over again. Still,” he hesitated, “I was not unhappy; not entirely. I think that, had it not been for Cataline, I would have been able to eventually make a life for myself in the Marches. Of course, we both know how that all turned out.”

“The only decent thing your father ever did for me,” Thea spoke quietly, the faintest trace of bitterness in her voice, “Was to die in such a way that you were compelled to come home. I am…” She paused, and Nathaniel already knew what she had almost said; what she could not bring herself to say. Sure enough, Thea shook her head emphatically. “No. I am not sorry he is dead, Nathaniel. I am sorry that his death has caused you so many problems.”

He did know. He also knew that Thea would have killed Rendon herself, given half a chance, and she may well have done it even before everything that had happened during the blight. And, for the first time, Nathaniel believed he understood why. “I admit, this is not how I pictured coming home, Teddy. This is not how I pictured marrying Cataline, but now that we are here I do not regret any of it.”

They were quite for a moment, both lost in their own thoughts. Thea was the first to speak again, her tone just slightly wistful. “She missed you, you know. I did too, of course.”

“Oh, Thea,” Nathaniel shifted so that he was sitting close enough he could press a kiss to the back of her hand. “I missed you both, so much. I did not stop writing because I stopped missing you: I stopped writing because it became too painful. Which was, in retrospect, stunningly selfish.” Thea gave a brief snort of laughter, and he smiled. “I wish you and Loghain could stay here longer.”

“So do I,” Thea admitted. “I knew we would not be allowed to stay in Ferelden, though. Montsimmard won’t be so bad, and we’ll have each other. We will come back and visit as often as we can, I promise. And I am still hopeful that someday we will be able to return. I have no particular desire to return to court, but I would love to see Gwaren someday.”

“Cat and I will come see you, as well,” Nathaniel promised. “I will not let another decade go by without giving you an opportunity to yell at me.”

Thea grinned then, her eyes sparkling. “Good. I would hate to get out of practice.”

“Small chance of that, Teddy,” Nathaniel retorted. “I have no doubt the Orlesians will give you plenty of opportunities to show them your bark is just as dangerous as your bite. So,” he raised an eyebrow in her direction, “When are you and Loghain going to marry? Cat was half convinced you already would be when you showed up.”

“Who ever said I was going to marry the man?” Thea raised a single perfectly arched brow in his direction, but Nathaniel just laughed, and she relented with a half smile. “I hate that you know me this well, Nate.”

“Liar.”

“And a bad one,” she agreed. “To answer your question, sooner rather than later. I figure I will give him another month or so before I ask him myself. I think… I hope… that he wants to marry me.” Thea shrugged, and for the first time in many, many years Nathaniel thought he saw a flicker of nerves pass over her face, but it disappeared nearly as quickly as it had appeared.

Nathaniel gave her hand another brief squeeze. “Thea, you already know he does. For all that he made some extraordinarily stupid decisions he made last year, Loghain Mac Tir is not a stupid man, which means he has to be aware of how very, very lucky he is to have you in his life. It also means that, because he is an intelligent man, he is going to do everything possible to keep you in his life.”

Thea was quiet for a moment, and then her face broke out in one of the rare, beautiful honest smiles. “Ten years, and you still know exactly what to say to make me feel better, don’t you? I hate you a little bit.”

Nathaniel just laughed.

“I love you too, Teddy.”

 

* * *

 

 

The next evening, the wine flowed freely, and the keep was alive with music and laughter. The heady scents of food and fire filtered lazily through the warm night air, and the stars overhead shone as though the skies themselves were glittering with unspoken approval at the events that had unfolded beneath them. The smile on Thea’s face, honest and pure, had been present the entire evening. Her new husband’s joy was more muted, more reserved, but still shining and evident to everyone gathered there. They could see just as clearly as Cataline could: Theadosia and Loghain Mac Tir were made for each other, and the world would be a better place for their union.

Though she had hardly left Loghain’s side the entire day, Thea was currently dancing with Nathaniel, her storm blue eyes alight with happiness. She had lost a few of the delicate white blossoms her best friend had carefully woven into her auburn hair before the wedding, though many still remained, and those that had fallen had quickly been picked up by other young women of the keep. Tradition held that those blooms that fell from the bride’s hair would bring luck in love to those who collected them. Cat had purposely left many of the wildflowers she had worn in her own hair loose, and had been gratified to see several beaming girls and women bearing them in their own clothes and hair the day after her wedding.

Cat wove through the small crowd. For such short notice, they had managed to throw together quite the party, but really she was simply overjoyed Thea and Loghain had decided to throw all formality to the wind and marry that evening while they were still in Ferelden. When she reached the table at the head of the courtyard, she took a seat at Loghain’s side, reaching out and placing her hand over his. He offered her a quiet smile, and Cat realized that he looked as though years of pain and silent suffering had been erased from his face. He and Thea still faced a long road; one that would never be easy, but Cat knew they would be stronger for each other’s love.

“I wish you could stay,” she spoke softly. “I meant what I said: I plan on interceding with Weisshaupt as soon as I settle things here. Nathaniel and I wanted to travel anyways: we may as well travel west as any other direction.”

“That is kind of you, Cataline,” Loghain replied, “But unnecessary. You have your own life to live, and you of all people deserve a bit of peace after everything that has happened. Theadosia and I will be fine, even in Orlais. And to be honest,” his smile widened just a fraction, “Depending on how much of a pain in their ass she decides to be, we may be moving elsewhere sooner rather than latter.”

Cat laughed brightly, catching Thea and Nathaniel’s attention as the song ended and they approached the table. Thea sat on Loghain’s other side and tucked her head against his shoulder as he leaned down to rest his head against hers, while Nathaniel took the place on Cat’s other side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. Thea peeked over at them, a tired but beautiful smile on her lips.

“We are an odd little family, aren’t we?”

“‘Odd' may be putting it a bit lightly, Teddy Girl,” Nathaniel laughed.

Cat smiled, leaning up to brush a kiss against his cheek. “Perhaps, my love. But I would not trade any of you for anything else in the world.”

“Not a damn thing,” Loghain agreed at her side, a soft, quiet smile gracing his expression as he looked down at his wife.

Their time together would not be nearly long enough; Cat knew that. But for tonight, with the four of them there together and happy and safe, the world seemed just a bit quieter, and for a few brief, shining hours beneath the stars and amidst the cascades of wine and blossoms…

There was peace.

 

 


End file.
